


thieves awaiting a noose

by brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Rating May Change, black sails au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/pseuds/brynnmclean
Summary: Take these to Yavin, there’s a—His crackling voice in the humid air, his shaking hands pushing the letters against the terrified animal in Bodhi’s chest—Captain Gerrera, tell him I sent you, his ship is called Steela, tell him I…That smile, that terrible trembling thing, then the sharp shake of Galen’s head and his stumbling step back.Go now before it’s too late.Or, ficlets in the Rogue One Black Sails AU.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	thieves awaiting a noose

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tag for [this AU](https://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/tagged/rogue+one+black+sails+au/) on tumblr!
> 
> More tags and pairings will be added as I go along. For now, there's this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/190006320074/bodhi-rook-14-guilt-is-natural-it-also-goes)!

The letters feel hot beneath his coat, even through his shirt, the inner pocket fabric, _and_ the protective leather keeping Galen’s words safe from the water.

If Bodhi is honest, he’ll admit that he’s been tempted to open the letters and read the contents himself—to keep the messages _completely_ safe, ensure that the _words_ make it to their destination, even if the paper can’t. But he already can barely sleep for dreams of leaving Galen behind at the harbor, guilt like bile in the back of his throat. 

_You’ll get farther without me, I think,_ Galen had said, rain pouring down around them, nearly drowning out his quiet voice. He tried to smile at Bodhi, tried to be reassuring, but there was a wild light in his eyes, a desperation that made Bodhi’s already pounding heart try to go impossibly faster. _Take these to Yavin, there’s a—_ His crackling voice in the humid air, his shaking hands pushing the letters against the terrified animal in Bodhi’s chest— _Captain Gerrera, tell him I sent you, his ship is called_ Steela, _tell him I…_ That smile, that terrible trembling thing, then the sharp shake of Galen’s head and his stumbling step back. _Go now before it’s too late._

The rain had been cold—he still feels it in the nightmares, sinking bone deep—but Bodhi’s hands burned as he tucked Galen’s message away. _Come, come with me_ , he’d pleaded—and in dreams now, he says more, all the arguments he could have made tripping over themselves to leave his mouth, but the reality is that all Galen had said then was, _son, please. Go._

And Bodhi had gone. He’d turned and hurried away, feet slipping on the slick boardwalk. And somehow— _somehow_ —he’d followed the plan. Left everything behind, including his name, and boarded a ship headed for the Islands.

Galen’s letters still burn his fingertips when he dares to touch them. There are two envelopes, both marked only with single letters—one for S, the other for J. He doesn’t know who J is. Galen never said. Bodhi spent a shameful minute once holding the envelope up in front of a candle, trying to see the jumbled up ink revealed by the flickering light, but he couldn’t make anything out. Galen’s voice echoes in his head whenever he thinks about trying again— _there’s no one else I trust in this town. This is important. You and I can make a difference._

Bodhi hopes so. He wants so badly to be worthy of this mission. Just as much as he wants to succeed.

He lays awake in his hammock during his sleep shift, staring at the ceiling, trying to let the ship’s rolling lull him into unconsciousness. Swinging gently like a pendulum— _I can do this, I can’t do this, it was right to leave him, I should have insisted he come, I should read the letters, no, they’re not meant for me…_

He clutches his coat against his chest, holds the letters to him like he can keep it all safe—like he can change things.

Somehow, somehow, sleep finds him. Somehow, _somehow_ , he keeps going.


End file.
